The Meaning of Numbers

Why a performance test challenged my identity

My performance test on Tuesday only confirmed my assumptions. I had never done one before and was curious whether how I train by feel matches the heart rate zones I use. My training is mostly based on vibes – but not in the way you might expect.

I do plan my training. I do know how much time I want to accumulate in what zone. When I’m not managing an injury I train structured.

Yet, my training is based on vibes. I do track my heart rate but I rarely use it to nail down my effort. I purely train by feel – or vibes so to say.

My performance test essentially confirmed that the zones I have mapped out are pretty much spot on. My Zone 2 ends where I have expected it to end. The lactate threshold we identified is within two beats of where I would have placed it.

What I wasn’t expecting was the feelings and thoughts that came with the results printed on a piece of paper. Numbers that describe me at that given point in time.

Suddenly I could qualify myself. An aerobic limit that is close to my anaerobic one. Great for ultras, but I instantly asked myself how I could push my lactate threshold. My aerobic engine needs space to grow further. I suddenly narrowed in on a fact that I hadn’t had known before. A fact that for sure is important but is one piece in a super complex puzzle.

Forced Improvement

I know the feeling of trying to push numbers. Faster pace. Lower HR for a given pace. Better 5k time than last time. Trying to outdo others. I know the feeling. I have been there. Many years ago when I started running. It brought me a lot of injuries, time running without joy and an unhealthy outlook on performance.

I had adopted a performance-based identity.

I could only feel good about myself if I improved. After all, that is what we are all taught, right? Get a better job. Be great in school. Be better.

The problem with a performance-based identity is that it's tied to success. You start to fear failure, undermine your self-worth through negative self-talk, push yourself harder, and get stuck in an endless cycle of perfectionism.

A flywheel of unhappiness.

Eventually, it was enough. I had to learn that my self-worth isn't tied to my best achievements. Even I don’t care. Why should others? I don’t care if my best friend has achieved something. I care about him because I value him as a person. His outlook on life is much more important than being a fast runner.

We often forget that others see us in the same way. The people who care about you don’t care about your achievements. They don’t measure you by them (if they do, you might have to have a thought about the relationship you have with your friends).

A Challenge to the Status Quo

It took time to learn all this. One of the things that helped me get out of a performance-based identity was to get rid of numbers in the moment.

Where I once forced improvement by trying to run more relaxed to have a lower HR for a given pace, I know just listen to my body and eased into a feeling-based effort. I still tracked everything but it wasn’t present during my runs. My watch is simple. No pace. No distance. No averages. Nothing. Elapsed time and HR. That’s it.

Elapsed time to gauge when I should eat something on long runs and HR to verify my perceived effort during easy runs. For intervals, I never look at my watch.

The performance test revealed what should be my 'ideal' zones to train in. I instantly felt the urge to perfect my runs. Be in the right zones. Do intervals in those zones. Spend your time right.

My thoughts were challenging my newly adopted process/purpose-driven identity. Before this test, I was thinking about my training rather simply:

• Run super hard rarely,

• run hard sometimes,

• run not so easy sometimes,

• run easy most of the time.

It became about the process. Consistent effort, not forced perfection. Funnily I gained immense fitness since I’m not focused on the outcome anymore. I’m still doing pretty much the same training as before. The change is just that I let go. I let go of days that feel harder than they should. I don’t force them. I do allow myself to be slower that day. Following my perceived effort instead of my HR.

Now I have a number. A number where my threshold lies. I now know where my optimum for hard runs is. As I said before it’s roughly where I expected it to be. Based on feel. I know when I start to accumulate lactate.

In theory, there is no difference from before, yet there is.

There is a spot my mind clings to. It presents this number to me and tells me this is the optimum.

Do I need to know my threshold when having fun with friends in the mountains?

Perceived Effort > Numbers

The interesting thing is that I know that those numbers are a snapshot of that day. If I did the same test today they might look a bit different. It was my first time running on a treadmill. The first time I was attached to a safety harness while running. The first time while wearing a mask through which it’s slightly harder to breathe. The first time I ran without seeing where I stepped due to the mask. In short, comfortable running looks different.

We often attach too much value to numbers. They tell us how we should feel instead of the other way around. I now realise how important the distance to numbers is. To not let them dictate your self-worth.

It does not matter how fast I am at a certain heart rate.

It does not matter if my threshold is at a certain pace.

It does not matter where my theoretical limit lies.

It all does not matter.

What matters is the value I attach to those numbers. And as I learn again I’m on the right track. What is much more important is how I feel at a given moment.

If the effort feels hard – it’s hard.

If the effort feels easy – it’s easy.

I know how I should feel during certain intervals. Does it really matter if my heart rate is a few beats off? It doesn’t. If I would push myself harder on days that already feel hard but my HR is too low I slowly but surely would burn out. I would start to dread workouts. I wouldn’t have fun anymore.

The Learning

I don’t regret doing the performance testing. I now have a snapshot of my profile on that given day. That in itself isn’t as valuable as I have thought before. It will be valuable in the future when I do the same testing again. I then can gauge if I have made progress.

What I do in between is where the important learning happens. I train by vibes. I improve by vibes. I love running on vibes.

If I continue to focus on that I will have many joyful runs.

I’m glad I was faced with numbers to remind myself:

Numbers are also just vibes.